"They are aware that China's the size of China and that boat could be headed anywhere?"
"They are aware that we are made of matter that can be destroyed in an instant if someone means us harm."
"Fair enough," Ness signed. "Sounds like we ought to hide in the bushes and see who's expecting a special delivery."
They moved away from the crates and headed uphill into the woods, which were far wilder than the parks of Macau but comprised of the same tropical mishmash. Ness located a dense patch of ivy and got down behind it. In some ways, it was easier for Sebastian to hide in such places. The human eye was well trained to pick out human faces and figures from the surroundings. A body like Sebastian's, though, with stick-like pincer arms and vine-like tentacles? The eye had no idea how to resolve that coherently. Toss it in the jungle and it became part of the background.
Sebastian signed something; it was so dark Ness had to ask him to repeat himself. "The boat is at the dock."
Ness raised his binoculars. The slant of the land was too shallow for him to see the dock, but minutes later, a lantern glowed downhill. Two mules appeared pulling a low flatbed cart, accompanied by a man and a woman. They came to the hedge and maneuvered through a gap in its side. At the crates, they detached the mules from the flatbed, set down a few thick, straight dowels, and lowered a ramp from the cart. As the woman hitched the mules to one of the crates, the man jacked up its edge, sliding another two dowels beneath it. The man stepped back. The woman barked something in Chinese. The mules pulled the crate along the dowels, up the ramp, and onto the cart. They repeated this with the second crate, then reattached the animals to the cart and led them out of the hedged-in field.
"Not sure what I was expecting," Ness signed. "But it sure wasn't the arrival of Mom and Pop."
Sebastian jerked his head to face Ness. "You know these people? How can this be?"
"Figure of speech. It means I didn't expect such a small operation."
Sebastian nodded. He didn't move again for several minutes until a message arrived on his pad. "Mom and Pop have left. We must hurry."
They jogged across the field and through the trees bordering the shore. The boat was already a few hundred yards away, cutting southeast toward a larger island. The sub sat right next to the dock with the very top of its tower exposed. Ness and Sebastian swam to it and climbed inside. It hummed to life and lurched forward.
Sprite met them at the exit to the top deck. "What did you see?"
"Two big crates," Ness said. "Got picked up by a couple. Seemed married."
"A married couple? They're the ones doing business with aliens? Who were they, Donald and Ivana?"
"Not unless their names are as fake as yours. Out of the way, we're following them right now."
They headed down to the control room, where Five twiddled buttons, watched the map, and gestured through his com link to other members of the Collective.
Sprite pointed to the map of the bay. "Hong Kong. Bet you fifty dollars."
"I don't have any dollars," Ness said.
"Bet you a ride in your space-jet."
"If we had a jet, you think we'd be burbling along in this smelly old sub?"
The dot representing the boat headed into the channel between the western island and the mainland. At the eastern tip of the island, it passed beneath a line—an elevated highway, most likely—then tacked southeast, drawing nearer and nearer to the west coast of Hong Kong.
"I could have won a jet ride," Sprite said sadly.
"It's going to dock," Ness signed. "Can we surface and watch?"
Sebastian exchanged gestures with Five, then nodded. They returned to the ramps leading to the top hatch. Once the light changed color, they climbed outside. Hong Kong hung dead ahead, hundreds of towers bristling from the shore, a dark mountain rising from the interior. For a moment, Ness was too taken by the spectacle to pay any attention to the sailboat nearing the waterfront.
In his travels, he'd seen plenty of emptied-out big cities. Macau itself had quite the skyline. Yet he wasn't sure he'd seen any like this place. Nothing but buildings, almost all of them giant. Must have been a hell of a sight when it had been lit up. He wished he'd been born just a little sooner, seen more of the world before it had ended. Much as he'd hated most of it—the non-internet part, anyway—parts of it were pretty special, too.
Then again, it was all moot. He'd never had the money to travel outside Idaho. If the aliens hadn't shown up, he would never have seen Hong Kong. Mt. Fuji. The Sydney Opera House. Maybe it was selfish to think of it in those terms, but his perspective was the only one he had.
Ahead, the boat slowed and came to berth at a weathered dock. As the man and woman tied up, a team of men emerged from the building at the base of the dock pushing a platform topped by a small crane. They locked it in position beside the boat and swung the arm over the ship's rails. Two men vaulted onboard and secured the hook to an iron ring on the top of the crate. The other men swung it over to the pier and lowered it onto the boards. As they set about bringing over the second, two of the workers attacked the first crate with pry bars, cracking open one side. It fell to the dock with a whump. They began sorting the canvas sacks inside.
One of the dock workers passed the boatman two lumpy sacks. The man extracted something from one of them, turned it in his hand, and took a bite.
"Food?" Ness signed.
Sebastian tilted his head. "Unless he tries to kill himself with not-food."
"This can't be the same stuff they're getting from Macau, is it? What is this, some kind of crazy shell game?"
The alien looked down at his carapace. "Shell game?"
"Swapping one thing for another to disguise your profits."
"Perhaps they don't want known their true desire."
On the dock, the man and his wife wrapped up business and climbed aboard. The longshoremen untied the boat from the cleats and tossed the ropes over its rails. The couple helped push themselves from the dock with the use of long poles, then trimmed their sails to pull them away.
"We know right where the dock is," Ness said. "But once that boat is gone, it's gone."
"Follow it more?"
"I don't know what more that will tell us. It's time to get piratical. I say we board them."
Sebastian considered this. "Will ask the others."
"Don't ask," Ness signed. "Make it known that in order to continue our pursuit of the Swimmers, we have to board that ship."
"Will you hurt them?"
"I don't want to."
"Will you hurt them?"
Ness rolled his eyes. "Not unless they're looking to hurt one of us."
"Then give them no reason to look."
He watched the boat drift away into the current between islands. "Agreed. Now go get the okay."
They headed down the ramp. As Sebastian loped off to speak with the others, Ness checked around for Sprite. He found him in the galley contemplating a container of something green and wobbly.
"Tastes like aquarium filter," Ness said. "But it's nutritious enough."
Sprite set the container on the spongy counter and pushed it aside. "You eat this stuff? How?"
"The arcane process of chewing. You get used to things fast when you don't have any other choice."
"If you say so."
Ness laughed and peeled open one of the cabinets with a slurp. He fished out a Tupperware of banana chips and a second of dried whitefish. "Eat fast. We're about to board them. Gonna need your help."
Sprite's head whipped up. "Why me?"
"I don't know, because you're our resident Chinese speaker?"
"You guys have radios or something, right? Why don't you take one with you and I'll translate from here?"
"Because that's idiotic. What's your problem?"
He glanced at the ceiling, pained. "We're going to stop them, in the middle of the ocean, and jump over the railings with a team of aliens? How are they going to react to that?"
"First off, I'm t
he only foreigner who'll be involved in this. We'll leave the crabs belowdecks. Second, yeah, it could be dangerous. That's what you signed up for. So you can get up there and do what needs doing, or you can stay down here crying to yourself about the kind of man you could have been."
Sprite laughed in disbelief. "Where did that come from? Is your ancestor the noted thespian R. Lee Ermey?"
"My older brother liked to think as much."
"I could just walk away."
"You sure could."
"Then what are you doing calling my manhood into question?"
Ness snorted. "I've been away from you people for so long that 'manhood' sounds pretty silly. Right now, you get to discover what kind of person you are."
"That's even worse!" He reached for the tub of banana chips. "If that elderly couple kills me, I'm going to sue the submarine off you."
Ness leaned against the counter. Sprite picked at the dried fruit and fish, but was too nervous to eat more than a few pieces. A few minutes later, Sebastian loomed from the darkness.
His tentacles twitched. "They agree. We follow."
From there, there was nothing to do but wait to catch up to the boat. This took much longer than it ought to, given the sub's capabilities; Ness figured the Collective must have been allowing Mom and Pop to put some distance between themselves and Hong Kong before exposing the sub. He was on the verge of going to the lower level to complain about the delay when Sebastian lurched upright.
"It is time."
"You heard the man," Ness said out loud. He led the way to the ramps to the tower.
"They will be scared," Sebastian signed once they reached its base. "Guide them rightly."
"Course," Ness replied. "I can't get any answers out of them if they're dead."
He climbed the damp, rubbery ramp to the top. He had his laser. Sprite was unarmed. Sebastian brought up the rear and planned to remain inside the tower as a reserve.
"I assume they're gonna open by yelling at us," Ness said to Sprite. "Make it clear we're not here to hurt them. If you think it'll help, tell 'em we're from the government or whatever."
"Ah, the Chinese government," Sprite said. "Everyone's favorite authority to cooperate with."
Ness flung open the hatch. Warm wind spilled over his head, bringing the scent of the sea, always a pleasant change from the stagnant, brackish smell below. The boat was dead ahead, skimming through the water. Ness shielded his eyes against the mist cast in its wake. It was thirty feet long, an old diesel-powered trawler bastardized with a square-sailed mast. It had a closed cabin and he couldn't see either the man or the woman. Foot by foot, the sub advanced on it. Its back end sported a metal ladder and a string of tires in various states of disintegration. As the sub neared, Ness understood the aliens' plan: they intended him to jump across to it.
Well, it wasn't the craziest thing he'd ever done. He moved to the edge of the tower. They were now so close he could almost reach out and grab the ladder at the back of the boat.
"No way!" Sprite stage-whispered from beside him. "We cannot do this."
"It's the only way this gets done," Ness said. "Now let's find out if it's possible."
He bent his knees, waited for the trawler to dip down a swell, and launched himself forward. Water skimmed beneath him. He thumped into the tires and scrabbled for a hold. His right foot dipped into the water, tugging hard. He pulled free, grabbed tight to the ladder with one hand, and extended the other back toward Sprite, who was shaking his head relentlessly. Sprite tipped back his head and mouthed something at the sky, then sprung forward.
He hit the back of the boat, dangling from the tires. The water swallowed his legs to the knee, fighting to yank his grip from the tires. Ness clamped on to Sprite's elbow and pulled up, straining his lean body. Sprite got a foot onto a tire. He hung there, catching his breath, then followed Ness up over the back rail.
Behind them, the sub tower sank below the surface. For a moment, Ness imagined this entire venture had been a scheme of the Collective to get rid of him. Sheer paranoia; they were getting out of the way of the boat, that was all. Minor miracle there hadn't been a collision while he and Sprite were boarding.
Ness moved to the rear of the cabin and edged his eye up to the window. The man and woman stood with their backs to him, the woman's hand on the wheel, the man pointing ahead. Ness moved to the door and clicked open the latch. The cabin smelled of fresh fish meat and old sweat. The man glanced over his shoulder, then did a double take. Ness pulled Sprite inside.
"Talk," he said.
The couple backed away, shouting. Sprite held up his hands and spoke rapidly in Chinese. The man shook his head and yelled. He was bald, with thin strands of hair combed back across his head, and though he was older, his body showed the strength of a man who makes his living from the sea.
"He wants us off the boat," Sprite said. "Now."
As if to punctuate this, the man went for a black club hanging beside the wheel. Ness drew his pistol. The man flinched, his wife moving in front of his shoulder.
"Ask him how he thinks we got on this boat," Ness said.
Sprite translated. The man narrowed his eyes. Sprite said, "He doesn't know."
"By using a submarine. A military one. If he refuses to answer my questions, or tries anything funny, it'll blow him out of the water." Ness raised his brows. "Or he can chat nicely with me and then go on about his business, as un-torpedoed as ever."
Sprite turned back to the man and exchanged several sentences. After they'd chatted and gestured at each other, he gave Ness a wry look. "He's confused. He would like to know why you threaten him when he's done everything you ask?"
"What's he talking about?"
Again, Sprite relayed that to the man, who tried and visibly failed to explain. His wife tossed up her hands, exclaimed "Ai-yah," and spoke for several seconds, jabbing her finger at the ground with each point.
"She says they just made our delivery," Sprite said. "They picked it up exactly when they were supposed to and delivered it at once. She would also prefer if you lowered your gun."
Ness did so. "Are they ready to answer my questions?"
"First, I have a question for you," the woman said. She chose her words carefully, working around a thick accent, but Ness had no problem understanding her. "What is a gwailo who speaks no Chinese doing working for the Chinese government?"
Ness blinked. "A lot's different than it used to be."
"I don't think so. I don't think there is a submarine at all. I think you stowed away on my ship." She said something quickly to her husband, whose eyes widened.
Ness pointed at Sprite. "His pants are sopping wet! How do you suppose that happened?"
"Maybe he pissed himself." The woman laughed. She was thinner than her husband but looked no less tough. "If there had been a submarine, I think we would have noticed."
"This is garbage. Come on outside."
She frowned. So did her husband. Ness looked up to the heavens for help, pocketed his pistol, and exited the cabin. After a moment, so did the couple, followed by Sprite. Ness got out a small metal disk and pressed a button on its side. He headed toward the front of the boat, checking the waves.
The woman stepped beside him and raised one brow. "Ocean. Very nice."
"Give me a dang minute." He clicked the disk again.
The man glanced up at the sails, which were beginning to flap. He said something to his wife, then swung his head to the left, gawked, and spat something that was obviously a curse. Beside the boat, the sub's tower penetrated from the waves. After a moment, its body cleared them, too, a long tube of dark metal.
"What is it you want to know?" the woman said with sudden unctuousness.
"Am I to understand you're also working for the government?" Ness said.
"If you are, shouldn't you know that already?"
"Work with me here. We had a hard time keeping track of ourselves even when we had phones."
Her shoulders heaved with a sigh.
"Some time ago, a man from the government came to us because we had a boat and were trusted by all. He asked us to pick up cargo from Neilingding and bring it to Hong Kong. At first we were unsure, because it sounded like smuggling. But when we found out it was food for the hungry, we said okay."
"You talked to him since?"
She conferred with her husband. "Once. Mostly, we are given notes with precise times to arrive at Neilingding."
"What are you given in return?"
"Some food. Sometimes some coffee or tea. Mostly, we do it to help."
"Has it ever been anything besides food?" Sprite interjected.
Ness glared at him. The old woman spoke to her husband again, then shook her head. "When they unload it on the dock, it is always food. Rice, coconut, mangos, coffee, pineapple, bananas and so forth."
"Know where it comes from?" Ness said.
"Inland?" She frowned and conversed with the man some more. "Come here." She brought Ness back into the cabin and showed him to a rough wooden bench along one wall. "We made that from one of the crates. It is stamped with the same thing they all are."
She pointed to the corner of the bench. Ness leaned in, perplexed, then saw why she couldn't read the words stamped into one of the boards. "Is that Portuguese? Sprite, what's it say?"
Sprite edged him aside, peering at the crate. "Beats me."
"I thought you could speak that stuff."
"Sure. But that's not Portuguese—it's Spanish."
"Huh?" Ness turned to the woman. "You got a pen?"
She clicked opened a drawer to the left of the wheel and got out pen and paper. Ness copied the words on the crate and handed her back the pen.
"Now you can tell me what this is about?" she said.
"I don't rightly know," Ness said. "Nobody's in trouble, I can tell you that much. Listen, you've been very helpful." He turned to walk from the cabin.
Sprite grabbed his arm. "Isn't there something you'd like to tell them?"
"Thanks for your time?"
"Something else?" He bulged his eyes. "Like the fact that their suppliers may be...foreign?"
Ness eyed him. Whatever lead they were tailing, he wasn't about to blow it by casually dropping the fact the couple was actually doing business with a bunch of Swimmers. Yet something tugged in his chest. His inside star? If so, it wasn't the most articulate astral messenger. The feelings were a grunt and he hardly had time to sit down and suss them out. The couple and their boat, they weren't his problem. If the Swimmers were up to something nasty, the world as a whole would be better off if Ness told them nothing.
Cut Off Page 12